


no such thing

by backiejonomo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Motif, Pining, Short & Sweet, Tobio is emotionally stunted, kinda a character study
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26334400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backiejonomo/pseuds/backiejonomo
Summary: luck (noun): success or failure apparently brought by chance rather than one's own actions.Kageyama does not believe in such a thing, and Hinata is a persistent little shit.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Kudos: 11





	no such thing

Kageyama does not believe in luck. Good luck, bad luck, whatever... it does not matter. He has never and will never understand how people could believe so vehemently in some illogical force that supposedly dictates the outcome of events in life. To believe in luck is to completely ignore the value of the hard work and effort that goes into achieving your goals. It feels lazy and cowardly to blame luck, or lack thereof, for failures and shortcomings. 

Luck is a fool’s errand. He is a good setter because he works hard and strategizes for maximum effect on the court, not because he has luck on his side. 

So, when Hinata wishes him good luck at the beginning of every game, he scowls back at the redhead in response. They will win the match because their team is skilled or they will lose the match because they are not skilled enough, no more no less. Their performance as a team and as individual’s is based on merit, not luck. 

“Just hit your marks and don't take your eyes off the ball,” Kageyama responds with indifference, fastening the binds of his knee pads. 

“And try not to vomit like a wuss” 

Hinata’s face reddens with anger that Kageyama likens to a child throwing a temper tantrum and he calls Kageyama a jerk, which startles Yachi and sets her off into an anxiety induced fuss. It amuses him to see the two of them so worked up over nothing. It is annoying but, like many of his teammate’s quirks, it has become familiar. 

Hinata’s good luck wishes gets Kageyama worked up, but he reasons that he will never be as ridiculous as the shorter boy and leaves it at that. 

Coach Ukai calls them into a huddle after the first set and the team attempts to strategize a way to take control of the next one. They had the lead in the beginning, but Kenma’s setter dumps have gotten harder to spot since their last match together. Kageyama zones out and replays Nekoma’s winning hits in his mind, nitpicking at every little piece of his own failed responses. His reactions need to be faster, his vision sharper, and his reflexes amplified. Kenma is small and unassuming but a speed demon, which he knows is probably driving Hinata crazy. 

Sure enough, Kageyama casts his glance to his right and sees Hinata’s red cheeked, sweaty, squinty look of frustration and determination. He can practically see the gears turn on overdrive in Hinata’s brain, no doubt analyzing Kenma’s every move. The rivalry between Hinata and the Nekoma setter is childish in Kageyama’s eyes, but it drives Hinata forward with an envious admiration. He has that funny scrunched up thinking face on him that always brings forward some elaborate plan for their next moves. 

Coach calls the huddle to a close and within three seconds, Hinata tags along at Kageyama’s side like an overactive shadow and starts going on about a synchronized fake out that he thinks will confuse Nekoma. His ideas always require a whole lot of energy and cooperation, but that is why they practice: to pull plans like this off. They can do this. 

“And if we are lucky enough, we can throw off their rhythm and have them overthinking our moves for the rest of the set.” 

There is that word again. Kageyama swears that his eyebrow twitches. 

“If we execute this correctly then we will throw them off,” Kageyama tells him, looking away from him and cracking his knuckles. 

“Luck has nothing to do with it.” 

Hinata makes a face at him, but the referee blows the whistle to begin the set and Hinata snaps his focus forward without missing a beat. It is remarkable how someone as jumpy as Hinata can change into a serious person in an instant, but Kageyama does not question it. Whatever gets him focused is his business, and it is Kageyama’s job to set the ball for Hinata to lock his focus onto. 

They fight hard and win the rest of the match, with Hinata and Kageyama’s joint ambition to win doing most of the legwork. They execute complex attacks like a well-oiled machine, the ball perfectly lining up with Hinata’s palm after leaving Kageyama’s. No matter how or where he sets it, Hinata is there to meet the ball and take it where it needs to be. That is just how things are when it comes to Tobio and number ten; their time spent practicing in the gym brings forward a reliable synchronicity between them on the court. 

The team is celebratory despite their exhaustion, taking on their usual loud excitement that will inevitably cultivate into a massive energy crash on the bus ride back to school. 

Kageyama wipes at his face with a towel in the bathroom, feelings his shoulders and forearms tense up. He will most definitely be sore tomorrow, but that is all the more reason to practice after school and power through it. Hinata will probably ask him to run attack drills the second they get off the bus. 

“Good job today,” a voice says from behind him, and Kageyama looks up to see Kuroo approaching the sink next to him. 

“You really powered through that last set. Sometimes I don’t know where you guys get the energy. Keep playing like that and you guys might actually pose a threat to Nekoma” 

Tobio nods, rolling his eyes as he slings the towel over his shoulders. 

“Your setter dumps have gotten faster, I’ll give you that,” Kageyama responds. 

“You guys may have taken over the first set, but we had you on your toes for the rest.” 

Kuroo laughs, pumping soap from the dispenser into his large hands. His palms are a vague hue of red from smacking the ball with such force, a side effect of quick attacks that every volleyball player comes to know all too well. 

“Don’t get so cocky, now. You and your little good luck charm will run out of steam at some point.” He smirks as he says it, with no idea that the phrase shoots the first year like a volleyball to the face. 

Tobio does not offer up any other contribution to the conversation, suddenly not in the mood for a chat. He thanks Kuroo for the game, turns on his heel, and scowls the entire walk to the bus. 

He does not need any luck because he has countless hours of practice under his belt. He especially does not need that persistent little shit’s presence to be good at volleyball. He plays how he plays because he works hard to do so. 

But Hinata wishes him good luck before every game. Regardless of Kageyama’s reaction and insistence that he does not need luck, Hinata offers it up anyways. Every single time, without fail or falter. 

Tobio does not know what to make of the feelings that he has for Hinata, but he knows that luck certainly cannot be involved. He might not believe in it, but he figures that luck cannot possibly feel this confusing and frustrating. 

Persistent little shit. 

Despite the raucous laughter from the loud-mouthed trio for the first half of the journey back to school, Kageyama keeps his eyes closed and his head pressed against the window. The glass is cool on his skin and the rocking of the bus is enough to make him doze on and off. Eventually his teammates run out of their seemingly relentless energy and the noise dulls down to silence. Most follow his lead and rest, others pulling headphones on or typing away on their phones. The silence is a rarity among their rambunctious team, and it relaxes Tobio as he lulls into sleep once more. 

At least he would have, but he feels Hinata’s head press gently onto his shoulder and his whole-body tenses. Out of the corner of his eye he sees that Hinata is fast asleep, right cheek slightly smushed into the soft material of Kageyama’s sweatshirt. 

The setter stills for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. Hinata remains, his red hair tickling at Kageyama’s jaw when the bus takes a wide turn around a corner. Confirming that nobody on the bus is paying attention to him, he steals a better look at Hinata. He has never seen the boy calm, let alone completely still. Hell, they rarely have any contact besides the occasional high five. But here he is, pressed against Kageyama’s side, his smaller body leaning into Kageyama’s with every turn the bus makes. He notes with amusement that Hinata’s mouth hangs open slightly, as if it is physically impossible for him to ever actually shut his mouth completely. 

Kageyama relaxes his own posture and leans his head back against the window. He is not a total asshole: he is not going to wake Hinata up just to get his personal space back. It is no big deal, really. Hinata could move at any second and they could be separate again. 

And the decision to let him be has nothing to do with the fact that Hinata smells like the caramel candies that Yachi always carries around in her backpack, or the fact that he feels so warm against him despite the heavy AC of the bus. Nobody is awake to see the small smile on Kageyama’s face, and he would fervently deny it regardless anyways. 

Hinata’s head stays on Kageyama’s shoulder the whole time before Kageyama falls asleep himself. 

It is no big deal. 

The team awakens to Coach Ukai’s voice announcing their arrival at the school and Kiyoko’s soft voice thanking the bus driver for the ride. Kageyama feels Hinata stir awake against him and he keeps his eyes firmly closed. He does not acknowledge the contact, even after Hinata shakes him and he pretends to wake up. The team unloads the bus slowly, thanking the driver and lugging their duffels and equipment down the central aisle between the seats. 

Neither he nor Hinata says anything besides planning to meet early in the morning for practice. 

If his shoulder did not feel so cold from Hinata’s absence, Kageyama would be wondering if he imagined all of it. 

It is no big deal. 

He tells himself that the whole way home, but his shoulder never quite warms up.


End file.
